


Less Than 500 Word Ficlets: Christmas Edition

by Yombatable



Series: YOMBAT WRITES THE OTP [20]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 25 Day Holiday OTP Challenge, Do not expect greatness, M/M, Simply expect something to be produced, let's see how we go shall we?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yombatable/pseuds/Yombatable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 Day Christmas challenge! Let's do this! ScotEng Style!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> What am I doing with my life??? This apparently. Whatever the case, I've never done one of these challenges before, so I decided to give it a go. These drabbles won't be long, as the title suggests, but there will be 25 of them and they will be (reasonably) connected, so I guess it's kinda like a christmas fic spread out over 25 days. (Don't expect me not to be derailed sometimes from the ScotEng, I am but a bean with a wandering mind). Also it's probably in the 'It's in the Brows' 'verse but I have yet to decide that, needless to say, that little drabble collection probably won't be updating much during the month of December since I have about a million things more important to do.
> 
> Ah, anyway, consider this my christmas present to the ScotEng fandom ;D
> 
> Link to the challenge is this: http://cypress-tree.tumblr.com/post/36866885886/christmas-otp-challenge
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 1: getting out/putting up decorations

                "Hey Scotland! Do you know where I put the baubles?"

                "Aren't they in the attic?"

                "Well yes! But _where_ in the attic you buffoon!"

                "Don't get shirty with me! They should be with the rest of the decorations!"

                "If they were would I be asking you were they are?"

                "Well obviously I don't know then do I?"

                England stuck his head down out of the attic, scowling in the direction Scotland's voice had been coming from, "Will you stop being a lazy twat and _help me_?"

                Scotland stuck his head around the stairs irritably, "I'm hanging the garlands!"

                "Well it won't matter if you hang them if we can't decorate them!"

                "What do you want me to do here, England?"

                "I wasn't aware your ears were malfunctioning. You should have told me, I'd have spoken louder."

                "Oh ha ha," Scotland laughed sarcastically, "You're funny." And then he sighed, running a hand through his hair, and trotting up the stairs stopping at the ladder which lead to England's over-stuffed attic. He smirked, leaning against one of the rungs, "Apologize for that and I might consider helping you."

                England rolled his eyes, "For what, my dear?"

                "For being a snarky shit, darling."

                England pouted sarcastically, "Oh poppet, did I offend you? I hadn't realized you were so sensitive."

                "Only when it means I might get to knock you down a peg."

                "Oh, and how's that going for you?"

                "Slowly but surely, I have my ways. Namely leaving you to find your stupid decorations by yourself."

                He turned around, walking back toward the stairs and making England groan, "Eugh, _Scotland_! Don't be a twat."

                Scotland smirked to himself, turning back around, "I'm still waiting."

                England gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes, "I'm so sorry for pointing out your possible hearing problems, in the future I'll be sure to keep any of your potential physical ailments to myself."

                Scotland was satisfied with that, laughing and climbing up the ladder until he and England were face to face, "Thank you, I appreciate it." With a quick kiss to England's lips they began their search.

                They didn't find the baubles, but they did manage to improvise by binding some bubbles to string with magic, which probably looked better anyway.


	2. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is trash? Me. Me is trash.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 2: making christmas cards

                "So, England, who are you making your card for?" North asked, beaming at the fact that her brother's had agreed to do this at all. Making Christmas cards wasn't something they'd ever done before, let alone as a family, so this was more than a little exciting.

                "France." England replied, without looking up from his card, making the rest of them look up in surprise.

                "Wait, really?" North asked in surprise.

                England nodded, "Yes, I've drawn a penis on a piece of folded A4 paper." He held up said drawing, which, true to his word, was a rather lazy and rather crude picture of a rather small penis drawn with sharpie, with 'Merry Fucking Christmas' written under it in England's neat script. It also appeared he was in the process of decorating the words with small holly berries.

                "Classy." Wales said dryly.

                "I thought so," England replied, placing it back down and reaching for an envelope.

                Scotland peered over at it, smiling despite himself, "I'm not sure how I feel about you sending drawings of your dick to France."

                England looked up at him flatly, raising an eyebrow, "Oh, I'm sorry, my skills must be rusty, it was supposed to be yours."

                "And can I ask why you were attempting to send France an inaccurate picture of my cock?" 

                "I was hoping he'd take you off my hands."

                "New question, why did you think that would make him do that?"

                "That's how frogs mate, isn't it? Displaying their penis in the hopes that that is somehow sufficient enough wooing for sex to happen."

                "Well, haven't you been working hard researching the mating habits of France."

                "I have first-hand experience. He seems intent on carrying out said mating habits on me. With any luck this display will distract his efforts onto you."

                "Are you not worried about him trying to steal me away?"

                Scotland leaned close to England then, with a predatory smile, making England chuckle. England himself, reaching a hand up to pinch his chin, and leaning in close so Wales and North couldn't hear him. "Try and succeed, poppet, are two very different things. I don't believe for one second the frog can make you moan out his name with the same enthusiasm as you moan out my own."

                "Oh, you don't? I have _vivid_ memories of him making me whimper and beg and-"

                "I'd stop where you are, my darling, or else I will be _forced_ to rid you of those memories. _One at a time_."

                Across the table, North was glaring at the pair of them. Wales simply continued on with his own card, holding it at a distance to admire it, "I don't know what you thought would happen."

                With an irritated sigh, North turned away from the enthusiastically making out nations on the other side of the table, "Neither did I."


	3. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've fixed my computer to a degree where I can kind of sort of access my fics. I say sort of because a lot of my stuff got corrupted, but luckily this and a few other things survived. Never have I been so happy that I organized my shit in the least organized way possible. Anyways, have three drabs today so I can upload them on time in the future.
> 
> This first one is kinda short and kinda different, but oh well... 
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 3: sitting/snuggling in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa/tea (i’m so cliche)

               The world is quiet.

               Quiet other than the gentle crackling of the fireplace.

               Other than gentle breaths and sipping warm drinks.

               Hands softly caress over clothes, over innocent places like arms and faces, eyes caressing souls and soothing over hearts.

               There are no words exchanged, and even though they’re both just a little too warm, neither of them move. They couldn’t even if they wanted to, too wrapped up in each other as they are.

               There are moments when they both consider talking though. Where their hearts beat too hard out of their chest and beg for them to scream, “I love you, I love you, I love you…!” To the world, so that everyone can know, but then they realize that they don’t want the world to know, they want to keep this to themselves, a private moment for them and them alone where the world can intrude on the smaller one they’ve created for themselves in the crackling light of the fire and soothing scent of tea.

               They sit in this quiet and content world of silent I love you’s where no one can be but them. Their private world of soft touches. Their private world of two beating hearts. Their private world of comfort and warmth. Private and perfect and safe until the dawn threatens to take away the darkness which is blocking them from the rest of the world.

               And the world can go shove it, as far as they’re concerned.

               Their world is for them and only them, to scream their love to one another without saying a single word.

               Their world is safe and warm and small and theirs.

               Their world is quiet.


	4. Day 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Number two, back to regular programming.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 4: shopping for and/or wrapping gifts

               "What the fuck do I buy for the children?" England lamented, putting down yet another stupidly expensive toy. A mother glared at him and steered her child away, but he didn't pay her any mind.

               "What did you buy last year?" Scotland asked, smiling apologetically at the mother.

               "What does it matter?" England asked irritably, "I've never known what to buy for the royal children, honestly, what do you buy a child who already had all that they could want?"

               "Why don't you just cheap out and take them to see the fae? They're still young enough to believe."

               England shook his head, "No, dear William may trust me with his life, but I don't think he would trust me to do strange magic on his children and take them to a different realm altogether. Nor do I believe any of my other royals with children young enough would indulge me." England picked up another too-expensive toy and glanced over it, "Well, that and the fact that they're so young they won't remember it years to come anyway. And the ones that "

               Scotland grimaced, leaning forward to lean against a shelf and frown at England, "I never understood how you could stay cynical even at Christmas." He rolled his eyes, before holding out his hands in a wide gesture and grinning, "Don't you just want to show them the fucking just- _beauty_ that is the fae realm?"

               England looked up at him and smiled softly, "You amaze me."

               Scotland frowned in amused confusion, "How do you mean?"

               England placed the toy he was holding down and walked over to him, kissing him soundly on the mouth, "Things still amaze you, and that amazes me."

               Scotland's frown deepened a little, "Of course things still amaze me, things are amazing, the world is amazing, and especially the fae are amazing." He ran a thumb over England's cheek, "And hey, you're amazed by things too, if you're still amazed by me."

               England smiled, kissing him once more, "Well, yes," he chuckled, "I suppose you're right."

               "So," Scotland asked softly, "Are you still intent on material possessions or are you going to reconsider?"

               "I will follow your advice on this matter, and this matter alone," England replied, rubbing their noses together, "Don't begin to get used to it."

               Scotland chuckled, "Easily impressed as I am," he said, "I'm not an idiot."

               "Well, that remains to be seen," England said with a brief raise of his brow, letting Scotland go and wandering off toward the exit of the shop. Scotland just followed, the day he got a thanks from England would be the day he died, so he didn't mind the brisk way he walked away. He just wished he'd bothered to take his hand and pull him with him.

               Oh well, he'd just have to catch that hand for himself.


	5. Day 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one, now I can stop worrying about all this shit.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 5: buying the christmas tree

               "I think it needs to be bigger."

               "It won't fit."

               "Just another foot or two."

               "It won't fit."

               "Maybe three."

               "It won't fit."

               "Oh shut up England, you clearly just don't dream big enough."

               "I would _love_ to dream bigger, my dear, but I'm just being realistic."

               "Where did realism ever get us?"

               "Scotland, you are usually the stingiest bastard I know, why is it that you're prepared to pay for a Christmas tree that will not even fit in your house?"

               "We don't cheap out on Christmas magic, England!"

               "We don't even spend Christmas day at your house."

               "I like to delude myself. Maybe one year."

               "It's cold as fuck at your house poppet, the year we spend Christmas at your house I will have lost all feeling in my body prior to."

               "I thought the dream was a white Christmas?"

               "The dream is a _live_ Christmas. Hypothermia is not what I want in my stocking."

               "My house has heating, you know."

               "Which you would never turn on."

               "Come to my house for Christmas this year and I will."

               England looked up at him, his sarcastic look of derision falling into something softer, "Would it really mean that much to you?"

               Scotland seemed surprised that England had paused in their bickering so suddenly, frowning at the other nation, he found he couldn't really reply, "Well, I... Uh..."

               "Because if it does then we can give it a go."

               Scotland felt his cheeks heat up, "Well, I mean- _Yeah_ , but I ask every year and you always say no so I thought..."

               "Thought what?"

               He looked down at his feet, and he wasn't sure why he was so flustered, "Well I just thought it was off the table, I suppose."

               England chuckled, "It _was_. But I suppose that I could make an exception, just this once."

               Oh, Scotland could kiss him! Wait, Scotland _could_ kiss him.

               He laughed, scooping England up happily into a bridal style hold, ignoring his embarrassed protest. "Oh, I love you, you glorious-" He cut himself off with a kiss to England's lips, which England didn't fight for more than a moment before kissing back.

               It took Scotland's arms getting tired for them to stop, at which point England simply murmured, "Merry Christmas," through a smile, and they both went to buy Scotland a tree.

               England knew it wouldn't fit, but just this once, he'd let Scotland have it his way.


	6. Day 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a direct continuation from yesterday's.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 6: decorating the christmas tree

               "Don't you dare say it. If you say it I will shove the entire thing down your throat one needle at a time."

               England pressed his lips together through a smug smile, "I don't know what you're talking about. I would never be so immature."

               Scotland narrowed his eyes at him, "Oh like hell you would."

               "Maybe if we just trimmed it."

               "I'm going to kill you."

               "Maybe _I_ should work the snippers then."

               Scotland grit out a sound of annoyance, making England snort out the laugh he'd been rather unsuccessfully holding in. "I hate to say I told you so, but-"

               "Don't. Just don't."

               "I wasn't."

               "You were."

               "Hogwash."

               "Just help me get it stood up, will you?"

               Three hours later they'd wedged the tree in the corner of Scotland's living room, the top bent over against the ceiling, and Scotland's couch moved to another room to make room for it. But eventually, they had the decorations on it, and as shoddy as it looked, and as likely as it was to catch fire as close to the fireplace as it was, it was nice.

               "I like it." England announced, stepping back from it to look the thing up and down.

               Scotland joined him with a grin a few moments later, wrapping his arms around England's  waist, and peppering several happy kisses on his face, "It looks like shit, don't lie," he laughed.

               England crinkled his nose in a laugh, "Did I say it didn't? No, I said I like it. It's a bit like you."

               Scotland raised an eyebrow, "So I look like shit but you like me anyway."

               "No poppet," England chuckled, "You look perfectly ravishing, it's the rest of you that I like despite its shittiness."

               "Ah well, I guess we're two peas in a pod then, because I like you despite your shittiness too."

               England hummed, landing a kiss on Scotland's nose, "So what do you say we christen this shitty tree by having shitty sex under it?"

               Scotland grinned widely, "Sounds _perfect_."

               The tree soon fell over. I'll let you figure out why.


	7. Day 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who forgot to upload yesterday! Me. I did.
> 
> Also I am a slut for Scotland/Wales, so this has that. You can't tell me what to do.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 7: mistletoe *eyebrow wiggle*

               "Oh, well, what do we have here?"

               Scotland looked up from his conversation with Wales at his little sister who was smirking at him, "What do you mean?"

               She simply pointed up, making the both of them groan. "Oh you're fucking kidding me."

               She chuckled, shaking her head, "Nope, and I've heard from a reliable source that it's enchanted to keep you under it until you snog each other silly."

               Wales grimaced, "Is this source England per chance?"

               "Yes, but I don't think it was you who was the intended target, I'm afraid," she sighed, "I'm talking to Wales, or course, Scotland. You were almost definitely supposed to get stuck under it."

               Scotland opened his mouth to grumble something, but was cut off by Wales' lips pressing firmly against his own. Said nation's eyes were screwed tightly shut and his nose crinkled, his lips not giving any hint of actually kissing him properly.

               After a short moment, Wales pulled back, making Scotland and North laugh at his grimace, "There, I fucking kissed you, can we leave?" He went to walk out from under the mistletoe but barely made it step before he was stopped in his tracks making him groan angrily. "Why!?"

               Scotland rolled his eyes and twirled him around. "You're shit at kissing, here," he said in the same husky voice he used to get England going, leaning lifting Wales' arms to wrap around his neck, "Close your eyes, open your mouth, and try not to salivate too much."  

               Wales scowled at him, his cheeks the brightest red Scotland had ever seen them, "Fuck you, I know how to kiss, you fucking-"

               Scotland cut his inevitable rant off with said foreshadowed kiss, Wales responding with stiff reluctance at first, but seeming to realize  rather quickly that he had no choice but to actually kiss back.

               Ten minutes later, they were still going, and North was still in the living room for some reason, call it idle curiosity. She very much would like to find out what England would do when he found them. Well, that and she wanted to question Wales on how someone who apparently hated French kissing could do it for so long.

               The answer to her first question came soon after that, when the kiss was unceremoniously broken by a set of hands and Wales pushed from the mistletoe's sphere of influence. England took his place without a word and the new pair under the sprig of foliage went at it with perhaps just a little too much enthusiasm.

               The answer to her second question came when Wales wandered past her, muttering "Well that gets rid of them for the day," as he went and wiping his mouth.

               And looking up at them now, North had to concede that he was probably right.


	8. Day 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, this chapter is too long... oh well. 
> 
> Also, side note: this drab totally sent me into a downward spiral which lead to me to ship Wales with Gwalnog. Please do not think less of me.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 8: making snowmen

               "Aha!" Wales announced proudly, entering Scotland's house wrapped up in about fifteen layers of coats and related apparel. His face was pink from the cold and he was covered in snow, but for some reason he had a massive smile on his face. That alone was enough to fucking terrify England.

               "A... Ha?"

               "Aha!" Wales repeated, "Get your coat on and check out the shit me and North just finished!"

               Now, of course, Wales never got this excited, so what choice did they have but to pile on their winter clothes (England admittedly a few more than Scotland), and follow him outside.

               "Behold!" He grinned, leading them out of Scotland's back garden and into the field that stood behind it, "The snow-nog!"

               The pair of them looked at where he was pointing, and  both of them stopped in their tracks. Before them there was a life-sized snow model of Wales' dragon. Intricately carved and meticulous in it's detail.

               "Gwalnog, Cariad, come here!" He called, the head of his dragon popping up out of a snowdrift a small ways away, standing up and shaking off the snow. As Gwalnog made her way slowly over, so did North, smiling just as widely as Wales was, and brushing snow off her clothes.

               "D'ya guys like it? We spent like seven hours on it."

               "Yeah, holy shit, we can tell," England breathed, openly gawking at it.

               "How...?"

               Gwalnog yawned widely, dipping her head down so Wales could clamber up on top of her. "This lovely lady modelled for us," Wales gushed, making Gwalnog herself gurgle out a happy note, "Ah, and we made you so pretty, didn't we?"

               North snorted out a laugh as Wales flopped forward and wrapped his arms around Gwalnog's snout, "Does anyone else think his relationship with that Dragon is less than platonic?"

               "Oh don't listen to that nasty lady," Wales cooed to the Dragon, who huffed out a noise of amusement, her eyes crossing as she attempted to look at the man on her head, "No one can get in the way of our love."

               "Ahh young love," England sighed sarcastically, leaning heavily into Scotland's side, "So beautiful." 

               "What would you know? You're just a heartless bitch unable to love." Scotland replied.

               England sighed again, "Ah but alas, 'tis true. My poor heart is no longer capable of love, it is but a pile of dust blowing in the wind of-"

               "Oh fuck off." Scotland laughed, pushing him away and then rolling his eyes  when he fell straight over, at his now snow-covered body on the ground.

               "Oh! My hollow heart, thrown to the ground carelessly! Do you care at all, you beast?"

               Scotland snorted, "Since when did you become such a drama queen?"

               England pouted, covering his eyes with his gloved hand, "You wound me!"

               "I spotted the Shakespeare out on the kitchen table." Said North, giggling to herself.

               "Ah I see…"

               "Oh fuck off the both of you and let me have some fun." England laughed, rolling onto his back.

               "It’s just such an unusual occurrence, sweetie," North said, as Scotland walked over to him, and prodded him with his foot.

               "Are you getting up?" He asked, before his feet were abruptly pulled out from under him and he too ended up in the snow with a loud and undignified yelp.

               "I'd rather you got down." England said, springing up and sitting on Scotland's stomach.

               Scotland groaned at the weight, "How are you so heavy, you skinny shithead?"

               "How are you so easy to topple, you giant brute?"

               Scotland narrowed his gaze at him, a massive grin coming to his face, "I guess I just fell for you.”

               The other three simply groaned in response, “Oh for fucks sake!”


	9. Day 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend legitimately bought a jumper like this. I'm not kidding. I wish I was.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 9: wearing ugly christmas jumpers

               "What in god’s name do you have on your body?"

               Scotland grinned with what shouldn't have been pride, gesturing to the source of England's disgust with a smugness which only served to make the latter man grimace. "What, this?" He asked, as if he didn't know what the fuck England was talking about.

               "Yes. That." England replied in deadpan disgust.

               Scotland grinned wider, "It's an artistic representation of the beauty of this fine season."

               "Scotland," England sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "It's a graphic depiction of two reindeer having sex doggy style, how exactly is that 'an artistic representation of the beauty of the holiday season'?"

               "Beauty comes in many forms."

               England scrunched up his face in an attempt to stop himself from quite literally burning the jumper holding said artistic depiction directly off of the Scotsman’s body. "It's hideous."

               "You're uncultured."

               "You're uncouth."

               "You're no fun."

               "Well you're not sleeping with me until you burn it."

               "Oh come on England, lighten up! It's Christmas, let me live a little!"

               "You can live in it all you want, just be aware that so long as it still exists in this world as we know it, your penis is going absolutely nowhere near my person."

               Scotland scurried over to him, "Aw c'mon," He said with a pout, wrapping England tightly in his arms before England could even make a move to stop him. Despite England's protests and struggle, he lowered his voice, tucking his head into England's neck to murmur lowly in Gaelic. Even though England's Gaelic was admittedly shit, he could never help himself from melting completely whenever Scotland used it. Scotland could be reading out his shopping list for all England knew, but it was still making him weak at the knees.

               England wasn't exactly sure when Scotland switched back to English, he only consciously caught the last part of his sentence, "...derstand any of that, then you'd already be begging."

               "Begging you to remove that abomination, perhaps.”

               “Never.”

               England hummed, a wicked smile coming to his face, “You have a ten second head start, and then I start hurling flame.”

               Scotland was out of the room in under two, “Catch me if you can you English piece of shit!”

               England cracked his fingers, his smile widening, “Ready or not, here I come.”


	10. Day 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK man. Trying to keep to a schedule was never something I was great at. Two today I guess bc I'm a loser.
> 
> Enjoy!

Day 10: baking holiday treats

               “I don’t understand.”

               “I do.”

               “Fuck off.”

               “Look, all I’m saying is that sometimes, _maybe_ , France has some good points.”

               “You say that again and you’re officially dead to me.”

               “Well, if you _were_ trying to cook hockey pucks, then let me know so I can give Canada a call.”

               “I’d stop talking Scotland.”

               Scotland snorted, picking up one of the… well, he wasn’t really sure what they were _supposed_ to be, but they certainly weren’t edible, not even by his standards. Which were admittedly low. He put it down, and turned to England, a pout on his face that made Scotland chuckle.

               He pulled the grumbling England into his arms by the waist, catching his eye by brushing their noses together, “Hey, chin up grumpy.”

               England huffed out an irritated note, turning his head away, “Bugger off Scotland, I’m not in the mood.”

               Scotland simply pressed a few peppered kisses to his face. “You always fuck up in the kitchen, why does it still get you so down?”

               England seemed to concede some of his pride at that, leaning into Scotland’s hold, “I don’t know, it just gets to me.”

               They stood like that for a while, in silence, staring at the charred bricks of baked goods, and ignoring the pungent burning odor in their noses.

               “Why don’t we try together?” Scotland asked after a moment.

               “What makes you think that you’re any better?”

               Scotland chuckled, “I don’t, but two is better than one, right?”

               England hummed, turning back to him, “I suppose,” he said, leaning up to press their lips together in a few quick kisses. “Okay, we can give it a go.”

               By the end of the day, the two of them had managed to cook something that could be considered edible, good even. (It helped that Scotland had noticed England was using the Fahrenheit temperature from the recipe on a Celsius oven. Trying to bake a cake at 350 degrees rarely ended well). 


	11. Day 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got saapppyyyy! I'm so sorry!
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 11: snogging in front of the fireplace (more cliche)

               England smiled widely, running his fingers over Scotland’s jaw and breaking their lips apart, “You’re getting furry, you need to shave.”

               Scotland hummed, rejoining their lips, “You’re just jealous that you’ll never be as manly as me.”

               “Hardly,” England replied, his hands traveling up Scotland’s stomach under his shirt, “It’s like kissing a bear.”

               “Well, you don’t seem to be put off all that much.”

               England shook his head, pulling back far enough to flick his eyes over Scotland’s face. The firelight flickering over his face somehow made his hair even more red than it already was, oh god how he loved the colour of his hair. He had a thing for redheads. He’d also once had a thing for beards. Ah, and his eyes were so beautiful, contrasting against his deep red lashes, which pressed against that spattering of freckles every time he blinked. And those freckles didn’t make him look any less manly, but they softened his otherwise hard face enough to prevent it being jarring.

               Good lord, he was beautiful.

               “You’re doing that thing again.”

               England hummed, meeting his eyes directly, making Scotland chuckle, “What thing?”

               “The thing where you start thinking and then don’t tell me what you’re thinking about.”

               England hummed again, brushing his fingers over Scotland’s cheeks. “You’d tease me for being sappy.”

               Scotland shook his head, “If I teased you for being sappy, then I’d be a hypocrite.”

               England leaned back down to kiss him again, and they didn’t speak for a while, hands travelling up and under each other’s clothes until light fingers on Scotland’s stomach made him chuckle, “You know I’m ticklish there,” He snorted, squirming under England’s hands.

               “I do.”

               Scotland growled as England’s fingers didn’t cease their movement, his own reaching down to grasp them firmly. “So stop.”

               “Make me.”

               Scotland shook his head, letting go of England’s hand to grasp at his neck. He pulled him down, glancing deliberately down at England’s lips, “It’s a good job I love you.”

               England chuckled, closing the gap between them. “Ah, you’re right, you would be a hypocrite.”


	12. Day 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'm just uploading these in two's now...
> 
> Also did you notice how I desperately I tried to keep this vaguely PG even though I wanted to make it definitely not PG. HAHA I'M TERRIBLE!
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 12: watching a classic holiday film

               So, admittedly, they probably could have made it more than five minutes into the movie first.

               But where was the fun in that?

               “Mmn, I hate you.”

               “Nah you don’t.”

               “I do, and I’ll surely never forgive you for corrupting this-“ a soft moan, followed, by England’s fingers tightening in Scotland’s hair, “-Mmmm ah!- Innocent holiday classic.”

               “You don’t give a shit about this ‘innocent holiday classic’.” Scotland replied easily, before returning to his task.

               “I do.” England gasped. “I care or else I wouldn’t have put it –ah!- on!”

               “If you care so much,” Scotland hummed, making England groan loudly, “Then don’t let me distract you. Keep watching. I’ll just-“

               “Oh fuck Scotland!”

               “-Do my own thing down here.”

               “Oh right, of course, you- Oh god –you do that.”

               “Good to know we’re on the same page.” Scotland chuckled as England sucked in a sharp breath.

               “We couldn’t have at least made it halfway through, could we?”

               Scotland hummed out a note in the negative, making England groan. “Maybe you could have.” He replied, “I’ve been thirsty as all shit all fucking day.”

               “Oh for the love of god will you stop talking and put your mouth to- Ah!”

               “Less of the cheek, England, or you’ll be enjoying your ‘innocent holiday classic’ by yourself.”

               “Right, right, of course, just-“

               “Ask nicely.”

               “ _Oh for fucks sake_ … Please Scotland, will you just stop teasing me! Please!”

               “Well, since you were so polite.”


	13. Day 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one where Scotland is a dork because I can characterize my characters however the fuck I want. Bite me.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Day 13: listening to/playing festive music or caroling

               “ _I don’t want a lot for Christmas~_!”

               “Oh for fucks sake.”

               “ _There is just one thing I need_ ~!”

               “Someone shut him up.”

               “ _I don’t care about the presents~_!”

               “I don’t think he can be stopped.”

               “ _Underneath the Christmas tree~_!”

               The song continued as Scotland burst into laughter, stopping his singing and darting over to grab England by the waist, “Dance with me, England~!”

               “I think not.”

               Scotland picked him up, making him let out an undignified squeal, and their two siblings snort out in laughter. “Oh come on. Dance with me.” He grinned, placing England back down and raising his eyebrows.

               “I refuse to dance to shitty Mariah Carey Christmas songs.”

               “Ah, but England…” Scotland paused for a short moment to allow the song to catch up, “ _All I want for Christmas is yooouu~_!”

               England scrunched up his face in an attempt not to smile as how fucking stupid Scotland was. Scotland seemed to see right through it though, and grinned wider, rubbing their noses together as he continued to sing, “ _YooOOuu baby_ ~!”

               “Scotland!” and this time England couldn’t help let out a laugh of his own. “You ridiculous man, stop this!”

               Scotland bit his lip, scrunching up his face in a laugh, “I will not.”

               Despite himself, England found himself leaning up on his toes, his arms twisting around Scotland’s neck. He chuckled again, “You’re impossible.”

               “I’m fun, unlike you.”

               “I’m plenty fun, I-“

               Scotland snorted, covering his nose and mouth with his hand, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize you were capable of humour.”

               England rolled his eyes and let Scotland go, turning around, only to be pulled back, “I was kidding, god, you can’t take a joke or tell one.”

               “Piss off, Scotland.”

               Scotland leant down and pressed a kiss to England’s ear then, whispering something into it that made England smile, “You’re a sap.”

               “You love it.”

               “I do.”

               At that point, North and Wales made a hasty escape.


End file.
